falloutfanonfandomcom-20200222-history
Forum:The God of the Seasons
Lucy Littlething Age 10 year old, poked her way through the ruins of a small pre-war community library in Midessa, close to the edge of the area where the string of nuclear bombs that dropped upon the two cities had struck. She found that inside, most of the books within were unreadable, most destroyed either by fire or simple age. She had gathered what little was salvageable, a nice pile of books and newspapers and was ready to leave when she noticed a green glow coming from a a dust-obscured window leading into a large computer lab. She went through the doorway, the door already open and found a computer, still switched on inside. Curiosity forming in her little mind she moved close to the monitor and after checking the chair in front of the computer desk would be strong enough to take her weight, she sat down to read what was on the screen. From just a cursory glance she could tell that the computer was left on when the bombs fell when a person who had been working on it fled the dropping bombs and had abandoned the essay they were writing. It was entitled Automating Medicine. A report on a class trip to St Anne's Hospital {C}The essay was writing with a high schooler's level of skill, the vocabulary being one of a person more preoccupied with the contents of the opposite gender's trousers then the actual contents of the essay. Lucy however was intrigued. The essay described in detail the holographic "porn star" nurse (possibly because as stated earlier, the writer seemed to be more interesting in ladies then science) She had never encountered a hologram before. She had read about them in books, sure but never had actually seen one. Now of course she knew that Dallas was the heart of the Four Seasons but that place had never bothered her before. Maybe grownups were just trying to scare her when they told her all the creepy stories. It was no worse then the rest of the broken crapsack world she lived in. She packed up her sack of salvaged books and headed into town and headed for Globe Town, the cultural heart of Midessa, where she knew a bookshop would buy her goods. As usual she sparked up a conversation with the bookshop's owner as he carefully catalogued the new additions. She didn't listen to his warnings when she told him where she was headed next, into the heart of the Four Seasons to see a hologram. The man sighed as she left. He suspected that if nobody stopped the child he would never see her again. He waited until she turned the corner then stepped out of the shop, locking the door as he left and ran to find a town guard, a passing adventurer, anyone hoping they'd listen when he explained the situation and make sure the little girl didn't go through with her crazy plan. {C}The shopkeeper turned a corner, hoping to find someone at Dos Amigos when he blundered into a small group of men: a handsome, twenty-something man of mixed ancestry and a trio of dusty bravos with the Salt Clan logo stenciled in white over their armored vests like a knight's livery. The shopkeep realized he was looking at some Roughnecks, and quickly surmised that their charge was Ephrem Salt the Eighth, eldest son of the Salt Clan's patriarch. "Where's the fire," the young heir said, smiling like a cat as the roughnecks helped the shopkeep to his feet. The vendor quickly explained his concern for Lucy and her stated intent of venturing all the way to Four Seasons. The Roughnecks looked a bit concerned, but Ephrem was a tad dismissive. "Ain't she one of them girly scouts? Pshaw, girl's probably bored and out for a little adventure. Hey Eustace, flag that girly down and offer her a spot on the caravan to Big Spring. It's goin' her way and she'll probably get homesick by the time they get to that freakshow and'll be cryin' to come back. Adventure had, problem solved." The big roughneck nodded and ran off in the direction the shopkeeper gave and soon enough found Lucy, distinctive as she was in her uniform. Eustace introduced himself in a mildly patronizing tone of voice, then went on to explain that the joint Salt Clan/Armory Water & Power caravan was heading out to Big Spring the following morning and that she was welcome to join them on the road. Ephrem had underestimated the little girl. He wasn't the first to do so and wouldn't be the last to either. Big Springs was on the way to the Four Season {C}and was a place she had been reluctant to visit because of her feelings on slavery but the scout's oath "And to help those in need" cancelled out her personal feelings. If someone needed her to help guard a caravan (although they probably think they're protecting her) then she would do it. {C}"Sure, Ah'll come," she said, her voice slurred either by an accent or by a childish speech impediment "Let me get some ammo for my BB gun and Ah'll be with you ASAP." Lucy had learned that being a caravans never have BB bullets for their guards... if that was in fact what they wanted her for... she suspected that they hadn't thought she'd be any use for that. She wondered why anyone would ask her to join a caravan.. normally she was the one to seek the traders out. Charles Santini paused hauling the burlap sacks onto the back of the wagons when he heard the commotion. This wasn't a wagon party he had wanted to be apart of given the probable dangers along the route. Bad things lived in that part of Texas and he couldn't imagine why anyone would actually want to travel to the Four Seasons. If Charles didn't need to stay on the move he'd have sat this one out himself. All kinds of folks wander out of the desert though and if the girl wanted to go then so be it. Charles wasn't going to argue with her, the salt clan could deal with that if it was an issue. He was just a hired hand here to get a ride and a heel of bread. Charles turned back to loading the cargo on the caravan. The quicker he could wrap this up the sooner everything could be set in motion to leave. The only reason this trip was worth the risk and aggravation was the destination at the end of this route, Big Spring. It was the kind of place where Charles could lose himself amongst the crowds and start over. The bounty hunters had ruined his second chance back in New Mexico but in Big Spring he'd finally have out run his problems. Everyman deserves a chance a redemption, he shouldn't be any different. Maybe he'd be a teacher again and see the smiles on all the kids faces as they learn their ABCs. It was folly to think of such things now, he had to get there first. At the moment he was loading crates and that's where his attentions needed to be focused. After a few more minutes everything was packed away and the food was separated so the meat wouldn't contaminate the rest of the supplies. Charles checked to make sure his own belongings were safely stowed aboard as he climbed on. Hopefully with the Salt Clan coming along guarding wouldn't be too difficult. The trade route suggested otherwise but a little optimism never hurt anything. Charles took his seat on one of the benches and waited for the caravan boss to finish his preparations. He was ready to leave as soon as they were. The caravan consisted of five brahmin drawn wagons: three stamped with the distinctive Salt Clan's cog, a fourth with Armory Water & Power's co-opted national guard with crossed lightning logo, and the fifth was unmarked but painted like the cover of a progressive rock album as was the want of it's Rocker Movement mission. Besides the wagon there were a few head of brahmin and big horners being drawn alongside the caravan. It was a catch-all caravan intended to resupply the vendor-gangs of Big Spring with food, water, ammunition, and sundries drawn from the Salt Clan's network ranging from Wink Sink to Fort Holly. The ghouls of Armory tagged along as traveling tinkers and engineers for hire, and the Rockers ran one hell of a chuck wagon and show as part of their missionary work. Though security was primarily in the hands of the Roughnecks, persistent rumors of spikes in aggressiveness by the region's tribal population along with a mysterious raider band prompted the Salts to augment their security by hiring on some of the Pecos Regulators. Additionally, there were several people tagging along with the caravan for the security of numbers while traveling: either paying for a spot on a wagon or walking alongside or in their wake. The caravan's leader, Buford Gautreaux, walked along with his bodyguard to make a final check on the wagons. He spoke with a Louisiana accent with a vaguely aristocratic cadence "You make sure those sacks tied down good monsieur Santini, to konprann?" He moved towards the front of the caravan, trying to cool himself off with a paper fan, cursing "Hot damn, le fe cho!" When he got to the front wagon, before he could get into it's covered interior he was hailed by a Roughneck who explained the last minute addition of a little girl on Ephrem VIII's authority. Buford shrugged and scanned over his shoulder looking for Lucy. "You help her find a spot, maybe wit' the Rockers back there? We going to hit I-20 in fifteen minutes, you go light a fire under ever'one's ass." Alfred Temple rushed tward the caravan, "Wait!" he slung his light duffel bag down on one of the last wagons. He checked his revolver for rounds, and put it back into it's holster. Letting out a deep sigh, he glanced at some of the other caravaneers, and stopped when he saw the girl. Wondering what sick bastard would make a child come along into the Texas wilderness, he lit a cigar and waited for the caravan leader to set off. Lucy was escorted to the tent at the rear of the convoy, the canvass painted with a wizard with an electric guitar shooting lasers at a dragon. The moment she lifted the rear flap and entered their wagon she was hit with a cloud of smoke which smelled like garden supplies. "Hey!" One of the men inside cried with a slow somewhat sleepy voice. "You can't like bring a kid in here! It'll really cramp our... umm style." Lucy looked at the people, mostly young men, in the caravan. "I'll ride on the front if that's ok" she said. Charles sat back against the side of the wagon and looked at the crowds of people that showed up to participate in this trade run. The caravan had a lot more firepower then usual which concerned Charles. He knew the route to Big Springs was a rough stretch but this amount of men gave him pause. What did the caravan company know that they didn't tell him? This was either going to be a stroll through the park with a ton of money wasted on hired guns that weren't needed or they were about to run the gauntlet through horrors Charles didn't dare imagine. The truth was likely somewhere in between the two extremes but Charles wouldn't be able to relax until they were on the other side of this. The mercs could have been worse then the Regulators, the caravan could have gotten some bored law enforcement that would have pored into the backgrounds of everyone working here. Last thing Charles needed was some two bit country cop trying to make his big career arrest. At least with the Regulators if they end up betraying everyone and hijacking the wagons he could try and get hired on with their crew. He was glad to see the girl was assigned to the rocker group's wagon. That concentrated the helpless civilians more and that would make the wagon train easier to protect. His sacks and crates were loaded and secured like the boss wanted, or at least he thought that was what the boss wanted. Charles could understand about half of what that man said. Charles very discretely pulled his laser rifle out to guard the rear of the wagon. You never do anything quickly with a gun on a caravan, everyone is on edge and waiting for the slightest sign of danger. Charles would be guarding the rear of his wagon during the first leg of this journey. Next to him in one of the other wagons a fellow laborer was finishing up loading his wagon. "It'll be good to get these crates loaded," the man commented to Charles. "The crates are important for battle... they'll need crates for the battle," Charles replied encouragingly. He certainly didn't want to switch to hauling munitions supplies with this guy. His wagon would be one of the first targets if raiders attacked along the way. "My crate says 'Snacks,' 'Various Snacks,'" Charles added. "They probably wouldn't miss a few if you know what I'm saying," the laborer replied. "I already opened up my crate a little bit and I took out some peanuts," Charles replied. There wasn't time for any additional small talk as the wagons were ready to depart. The laborer scrambled up onto his wagon having just finished with his loading. Soon the wagons would lurch forward and begin the long trek. In these final moments Charles scanned around his wagon to make sure no one was trying to take anything at the last moment. Sometimes thieves like to sneak up in the confusion right before the caravan departs. That was a move Charles was familiar with himself, if you act like you belong people wont question you with all the strangers around the wagons anyway. His wagon was fine though so he settled in for the journey. It was going to be a long journey for the wagons if the rumors he'd been hearing were true. This caravan was going end up resupply the whole line of I-20 settlements clear up to the last outpost before the Four Seasons, if you believed the stories Gary was spreading by the chuck wagon. Going to Big Springs was enough for Charles if the jobs were in demand. Nature just got worse the longer you ventured down I-20 and it would be better to stay as far west as possible on this route. Locals tell stories of all kinds of horrible creatures to the east, endless seas of ghouls, a mad computer program, blaculas, and lobotomized packs of feral people. If someone didn't stop that girl she'd be attacked by one of the blaculas up there. Someone really should talk her out of going that far, someone other than himself preferably. Sitting on the front of the Brahman cart, Lucy watched the landscape pass by slowly and mostly uneventfully. Lucy's spirits rose, her journey beginning, feeling safe in the company of such a large group of adults. Soon she relaxed and then she began to sing a gentle soothing song. "The rain has moved on, '' ''and left a new day Nothing seems to move everything is still. It's just a Perfect Day" Softly she sang at first but then louder as the rockers in the caravan recognised the music as something special and they opened the door flap to the front seat of the wagon. She poured her heart into the melody and the lyrics and then an acoustic guitar joined in playing a simple accompaniment as the player made it up as they went. The song was not their usual upbeat high tempo music, it was slow and soft, something that touched people in a very different way. "The shadows and light, '' ''that moved with the wind Hidden violets grow splashed with summer spray... Just another Perfect Day" '' Her song sounded of things that those travelling had never seen but their souls longed for, green fields and trees, flowers and woodland creatures. This child sang of them like she knew these things, images of children playing in the rolling hills in old pictures and films danced in their heads. The melody changed to the next part of the song. ''"On the wild and misty hillside, fear is natures warning. '' Hunger here is never far away" This was something that those hearing the song knew about and nodded their heads to... but then... "And all of this world, ''is for children who play! Days that never end always should remain. ''Another perfect day!" '' The song ended but it was a few moments before the rockers returned to normal. Somewhat more susceptible to music then others due to their "religion" and also because they were high as kites, they had become completely stunned by her lovely song. A few seconds passed and then they cheered and clapped... She had her first fans! The caravan rolled-and-strolled along the grey ribbon of I-20, out of Petroleum, out of Midessa. "Au revoir home," Buford said wistfully to the town he would be leaving behind for several weeks "Partin' is such sweet sorrow." Lucy's song and the impromptu Rocker accompaniment seemed like a good way to start the caravan and most of those involved seemed to appreciate it to varying degrees. Of course the guards didn't like anything that might distract their vigil, but none of them thought it was a big deal this close to town. The vastness of the Texas wasteland opened up before them, and there seemed to be many empty miles to either side of I-20. The caravan itinerary was to travel for six hours to the camp in the ruins of Stanton, then resume traveling on the morrow in order to make it to Big Spring the following night. Stanton was a ranch town in the days of old America. It hadn't been resettled in the centuries since and had mostly been reclaimed by the wasteland. There was however a two-story adobe monastery that had been built for the Carmelite order nearly 400 years ago. The crumbling edifice once dedicated to God was now used as a camp site by travelers. An ambitious, extended family had taken up residence; hoping to do for Stanton what the Halberstam's had done for Lamesa to the northwest. Working out a deal with this family was one of Buford's objectives on this trip. What the caravan didn't know was that there was trouble in the camp of Stanton. The new residents, the Petersons had been going about their business; preparing for the arrival of the caravan when from everywhere and nowhere came a tremendous noise. Those Petersons who working outdoors looked around in confusion before instinctively running for the monastery. The adults barred the doors and locked the children in the room furthest from the entrance, charging the oldest of them to protect the others. The adults then leveled their weapons at the front door or looked out the windows. They caught furtive glances of tall, lean figures dashing around the building on all sides; but the siren made it difficult to figure out exactly what was going on. Outside the amazonian WASPs of Sweetsteppes were dispensing with the front door and simply scaling the walls towards the unsecured second-story windows. Once they were inside the work was quick and bloody: they hacked apart the defending Petersons and helped themselves to the young in the locked room: girls to be added to their tribe and boys to be sold off in Big Spring. Additionally, they helped themselves to the belongings of the slaughtered Peterson family before they melted back into the east. "Dang it," Charles muttered to himself after missing for the 20th time. In the tedium of the trip he invented a game for himself where he tried to get a knotted piece of rope through one of the wagon's metal eye-loops. It was the sort of activity that was incredibly addictive when you have nothing else to do and instantly boring once something better is available. The guy guarding the munitions wagon had a better high score then he did and Charles wasn't about to take that lying down. He took a deep breath and tossed the rope again, this time underhanded. The line ripped through the air and plunged right to the left of the loop. The munitions guy cackled in laughter at Charles's frustration. "Enough of this dumb game," Charles decided to himself. He leaned back on his bench and watch the scenery around him. The rocker wagon seemed to be having a better time then he was judging from the smoke. Looking around he could see some of the other caravan passengers shared his excitement. A few of them were even managing to get a quick nap in. That wasn't a bad idea, frankly as there were more than enough extra guards on this trip. With that idea in mind Charles shifted from his bench seat to the center of the wagon floor. Resting with back up against the crates he was able to use a sack as a pillow. Then all he to do was prop his gun up so it looked like was just sitting prone. At a glance who would be able to tell he was asleep. If the caravan was attacked the shooting would wake him up in time and he'd been well rested with good reflexes, in a way he'd be hurting the security of the group not to sleep. With the sun beating down sleep came quickly once he closed his eyes and then blackness overtook him. A bad wagon jostle brought Charles back to the land of the living. As he predicted the wagon train was still there, no worse for wear. Now though he was much more alert then the rest of the guards that tried to stay awake through the heat of the day. A cool breeze was drifting by in the evening sky and it felt great after the scorching sun earlier. On the far horizon you could see the group's destination for the night. The birds circling overhead worried Charles but he kept that knowledge to himself. They'd all find out soon enough was going on there. There wasn't a thing he could do about it until they arrived in a little bit. The salt clan brought the convoy to a halt once they saw smoke coming out of the monastery. They sent a few men up ahead to check it out while the rest of the wagons approached at half pace until the scouts returned. The scouts were picked from volunteers and crewmen guarding less important assets, like snacks for example. Forced to volunteer Charles and a group of others went on up ahead to scout the damage. It was a massacre to say the least and it seemed like they missed the action by a couple hours. Just to be safe though Charles took position near one of the outer walls.It would be easy to defend and it let him keep an eye on the approaching wagons. The enemy appeared to be long gone so the wagons came on up after a few minutes. Once the group had been reunited Charles slipped away to see if there were any hidden stashes of goods the raiders missed. He should get a little something for the risk he took after all. "WASPS" Lucy overheard the dreaded word spoken and a knot formed in her gut. How many young girls had they taken? there must've been enough children in Stanton to warrant an attack... a dozen maybe? perhaps more. Lucy's blood boiled. She leapt off her perch and approached Buford Gautreaux as soon as the caravan halted. "Did ah hear right?" she asked in a raised high tone "Did the WASPS do this?" She was filled with rage and also on the verge of panic. She felt like the amazons would leap down at any moment and take her away. The thought of being turned into a bloodthirsty maniac warrior made her sick to her stomach and knowing that she had been only a few hours too late made her angry. While this was going on she had been cheerfully singing her little song oblivious to the violence just down the road. "Ah wanna buy a gun." she said, reaching into her pockets. "If you have any heavy ordinance ah will buy that too. Ah can pay with Railroad Nomad travel tokens or ah can write a cheque from the Girl Scout collection fund." One of the scouts reported in to Buford who first went pale white from shock, before quickly turning a livid crimson. "Cochon! Motherfuckers! See about finding out who did this!" He became an animated blur, directing Roughnecks and Regulators alike to get the wagons secured and form a proper defense. Meanwhile, he had the caravan hands bury the bodies of the Peterson clan (insisting that the bodies be treated with the ultimate respect) and set about cleaning the site. Clearly, Buford was used to giving commands. "Santini! If them raiders come back we might be needing those crates, make sure they set up proper!" He took a moment to catch his breath when that little girl approached him and started on with her questions. Buford realized that she was one of those Girl Scouts, the WASPs especially liked snagging them up when they could. "Could be WASPs mon cher, very likely 'round these parts. Of course, could be Scraphounds, Sand Hill folk, maybe even slavers out from Amarillo, or some other pack of killers. Whoever they were, I don't blame you for wanting a gun child. Alvarez," he waved over one of his employees "You find this girl a .22 rifle and some rounds. She'll be paying in Railroad scrip." Temple ran to Buford. "What the hell are you doing? If you give that little girl a gun, you'll make her free game for them! If we get in a firefight, the best thing to do would be for her to retreat until the fightings done, not give her a reason to put herself in harm's way!" Charles hadn't found a whole lot of value in his scrounging around the settlement. The amazons had picked the place pretty well clean except for the bodies. They did neglect to take the wineskins though which was a lucky break for Charles. The vintage was young and full of tannins, bitter and strong tasting to the uninitiated drinker. Charles was no stranger to wine and the liquid was as refreshing as it was intoxicating. He drank sparingly to avoid drunkenness. He just just wanted a nice buzz to take the edge off. Things were too tense around here and Charles needed to do his part for morale one guard at a time. At the moment he was that one guard and who was better qualified to know how to keep his morale high then himself? It was his duty to stay in high spirits and that meant a little wine every so often while he maintained his vigil against repeat attacks. Perhaps it was the alcohol loosening his tongue a bit that emboldened him to speak. He wasn't drunk, just buzzed but something about this guy annoyed him. He hadn't met him before, he was a late addition to the caravan. He seemed alright, in fact there was almost a mutual recognition with the man like two gypsies passing each other along a road. However, Charles would never run to the caravan boss over a decision like a child tattle tailing to his mother. This eye patched guy needed to take it down a notch. This girl was risking her skin against mutants and blaculas, she didn't need this. If she could find the courage to go to the Four Seasons then Charles could find the courage to speak. He'd stand up for the little girl, do something decent for once and get on that road to redemption. "Hey cyclops," Charles replied, drunker then he thought he was. "Why don't you mind your own business. These people that were here before us didn't trust the kids to look after themselves and see what it got them. You happen to see any dead kids around here? They hauled them off to the slave markets already if this group is worth their salt. That's what I'd do if I was them, it's easy money if you got the business sense. This girl had the courage to volunteer for this shit route. As long as she knows which way to point the gun I say she can keep it. Anyone got a problem with that you can talk to me but I stand by my boss's decisions. Boss if it's alright I'll get to them crates." Charles left the gathering crowd to load the crates in a way to prepare for a defensive situation. Munitions crates were needed for the battle so they had to go in the center where men could access them from every flank. The non vital crates were used to augment the the defenses around the circled wagons. Stanton had been breached already it'd be foolish to rely on it as a safe haven. The non-vital crates would help protect outer defenders from a repeated raid. Charles felt a tinge of hindsight stress as he finished the job. Perhaps he revealed too much about himself there and people might catch on to what he was. Slavers aren't readily accepted by some folks even when it's been years since they did it. That was one skeleton that Charles had to find a way to get rid off. All the more reason to make it to Big Springs alive and get a fresh start. Lucy held her new .22 SMG in her little arms. She pointed it towards the distance, away from the caravan and peered down the sight. It felt a little big but she knew she would get used to it. She inspected the gun like an experienced soldier, checking for any flaws in the gun that would make it less effective to use. "Great, ah'll take it" she said. "Now, you wanted Railroad Travel Tokens?" She opened her satchel and took out a very large bundle of cardboard slips, Some had Wasteland Pacific written on the top, others had "Union Pacific" and were in worse condition but they were both valid for travel between two stops anywhere on the Wasteland Pacific railway. "Now how much do ah owe you?" Lucy listened to the guards and others talk about Lucy defending herself.... yeah tat wasn't the idea.... Lucy totally planned n running off and rescuing the captured children... at least that was the only idea she had so far....